Paradox Lost
by strwbrrylove
Summary: When did it all begin? Who was affected by the Dark Lord's rise to power and what did they do to stop him? Paradox Lost explores an alternate universe focusing on the lives of Lily and the Marauders in their attempts to thwart the evils surrounding them. The Order may be slowly gaining power, but could they have been prepared for You-Know-Who infiltrating their beloved castle?
1. Prologue: The Pact

**PARADOX LOST | PROLOGUE: THE PACT**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the brilliant works of J.K. Rowling. This story is only an interpretation of her writing and the characters that have inspired me to delve into their pasts. I understand that this is historically incorrect—that the happenings within this story do not occur within the series at all. I've put an original spin on the Marauders Era to make things more interesting, so please do not private message me about the authenticity of the writing. It is fanfiction; please just enjoy it for the character development and plot!

**Author's Note:** This is a work-in-progress idea that's been pestering me to be written out for months now and I finally got around to working on it. Please give me some reviews to let me know if it's any good! I'll have the next chapter up shortly.

* * *

Scores of witches and wizards alike have tried to dictate the inner workings of the Wizarding world. Some try to influence society through the Ministry of Magic; others educate the children in hopes that they will grow to fix the mistakes of generations past. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin were visionaries in a time of paranoia and mistrust. They built a sanctuary for magical beings who were either persecuted for their identities or shunned for their _individualities_. They wanted to educate children so that they could control their magic and use it when necessary—_only _when necessary.

The story of the Founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry became infamous. Their tale and mission became basic foundation for other schools. Godric Gryffindor chose students with bravery and courage. He valued those who would stand up for friends and for justice when it needed to be served. Rowena Ravenclaw selected those who placed wit above all other things. She thought intelligence was most important and vowed to teach children who shared the same sentiment. Salazar Slytherin sorted his students based on their blood purity and ambition. His lack of trust for those of impure bloodlines influenced his opinion on which students should be admitted. It was this difference in opinion that later forced him to leave the school, nowhere to be seen or heard from since. Yet, Helga Hufflepuff vowed to teach all other children, prizing loyalty and kindheartedness above all else. She claimed to teach anyone so long as they were willing to learn.

Years passed and both students and professors came and went. Most shared the philosophies of the three amiable founders; one student took on the opinion of the other. Tom Riddle, though a half-blood himself, placed a high standard on blood purity. Like Salazar Slytherin, he was a powerful, ambitious wizard who was known to speak Parseltongue from a young age. He became obsessed with the idea of defying death, believing that true witches and wizards should not succumb to the most basic force of nature. His ambitions lead him to delve into a darker magic, one that spurred him on an even darker path.

During his stay at Hogwarts, he not only opened the Chamber of Secrets, he also manipulated all of his peers into believing that he was simply an innocent, curious boy. Tom Riddle returned to Hogwarts in 1959 with one simple request: to be given the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there. However, Albus Dumbledore, a man who had practically raised Tom himself, was weary and unwilling to risk the lives of his students. He turned Riddle away, just like he should have when the boy was in school.

Furious that he was denied the post, Riddle cursed the position and hid Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem within the Room of Hidden Things before leaving. Any professor who attempted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts thereafter could only hold the title for a year before suffering a terrible fate or humiliation.

Riddle was never a man who simply forgave and forgot. His desire for the job and for the only home he had ever known festered inside of him like an infectious disease. That, paired with his greed for power, drove him mad. Tom formulated a plan to breach the castle's walls while splitting his soul in attempt to preserve himself. Immortality—that was _true_ power. He adopted the name, "Lord Voldemort," an anagram for his birth given name, as he traveled around the Wizarding world collecting followers and killing all those who interfered.

"_There is no good and evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it."_

Those were his words—his philosophies. Voldemort attracted radical Pureblood supremacists, people who believed that only those pure of blood were worthy of magic. If not that, then they believed that magical beings were better than Muggles and squibs. Magic was power; magic was a birthright; magic was _might_.

For the next several years, he and his followers, better known as Death Eaters, strategically placed attacks on cities and towns in close proximity to the castle. Already in a state of fear, the added rumors of Death Eaters spotted in different towns turned the Wizarding community's attention to the one safe sanction in the area: Hogwarts and Hogsmeade adjacent to the school.

With no other alternative, in 1977, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore opened the doors of the castle to the public, deeming Hogwarts as a place of refuge for those who sought it. All were welcomed in so long as they were willing to take up arms and assist around the castle. Older witches and wizards were placed round the school as protectors and guardians. Others aided the professors, providing additional assets, like learning how to defend one's self in a disadvantaged duel.

In that very same year, Marc duSpevelle was hired as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He was a tall, kind man who had no idea that his fate would be cut short. Voldemort took the opportunity at hand and locked duSpevelle away, and with the assistance of a Polyjuice potion, Voldemort took his place. He infiltrated the walls of the castle with his most loyal followers in tow, posing as innocent people forced to take refuge there. Their goal? Recruitment. Fear. Power. Control. Hidden away behind carefully strewn veneers and guises, they laid in wait. A new era was taking form; a prophecy was being writ; a savage war has begun… and those too naïve to realize it would pay the price for their obliviousness.

A week before Voldemort took on Marc duSpevelle's name, he assembled four of his most trusted followers to divulge to them a much more sinister plan.

The meeting place was located just wry of Hogsmeade, in a dark, musty abandoned building nobody occupied. The Dark Lord stood at the center of four other people, all of whom who wore dark, hooded cloaks to hide their identity. However, with a wave his hand, they lowered their hoods and kept their heads bowed down in submission to their Lord. They neither spoke nor moved, awaiting the barely human man to speak.

"Welcome, my friends. Do overlook the state of this estate. I fear it is rather tedious to find a meeting place that upholds all our standards these days. You must all be wondering why I summoned you—and only you four at that." He scanned their faces, pacing slowly in a circle as he spoke. Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolphus kept their eyes trained on the ground. Lucius Malfoy shifted slightly, but Nathaniel Avery, his dear friend from his days at Hogwarts, remained steadfast. A sly smile graced the Dark Lord's lips as he continued on. "I have asked that you meet me here on this momentous evening, because I trust you four more than the others in our group. You've proven time and time again that you are as invested in this cause as I am and I applaud you for your dedication."

Most of them nodded in acknowledgement, none daring to speak out of turn.

"Now, I would invite you all to infiltrate the castle donning new identities, however, I think you'd all do your best work wearing your own skin." He quirked a brow, glancing out the window as if he were in a trance. His eyes raked across the glowing orb of the moon hanging in the night sky, footsteps slowing to a stop before he turned around. "I'd like to give you all special tasks—responsibilities if you will. With the string of murders following in our wake, there have been more and more resistance against our cause. Lucius, I'd like you to keep an eye on the Mudbloods and Half-bloods; make a list if you must. Be wary of blood traitors, for they are just as tarnished and dirty as the impure."

The rugged blond bowed as he spoke. "Yes, my lord." Whether his compliance came from fear or from pure desire to please the Dark Lord was yet unclear, but it was enough.

Turning to Rodolphus, he smirked. "But of course we mustn't simply focus on the opposition. I hear the Carrows are very supportive and I'd like you to gauge their worth. As for you, Bellatrix, I'm trusting you with Hufflepuff's cup and asking that you keep an eye on that unruly cousin of yours. The defiant one that smeared dirt on your family's name is called, Sirius if I'm not mistaken?" There was a curt nod from the raven-haired woman that prompted a small smile from him. "Yes, make sure he doesn't do anything to endanger our cause and see about his brother. Surely he doesn't hold the same sentiment for the unworthy. And Avery, dear friend of mine, I give you the painful responsibility of befriending 'Saint Potter.' I hear he's made quite a reputation for himself and as unfortunate as it may be, he shows promise. Along with him, I hope you'll keep an eye on the diadem. I don't need to tell any of you how important these tasks are, nor do I need to remind you of what will happen should any one of you betrayed me. I'd hate to lose such supportive allies."

"Yes, my lord."

The response was spoken loudly and clearly, as if they had all rehearsed beforehand to synchronize their answer. Bellatrix Lestrange stepped forward as if to say something to Voldemort, but was held back by her husband who was already pulling up the hood of his cloak. Begrudgingly, she mirrored the action, bowing low before all four of them disapparated into thin air.

There he stood—alone, pensive, and trembling with anticipation all at once. How long he had _thirsted_ for his rise to power, for all those beneath him to both revere and fear him. Tom Riddle was nothing more than a bad memory, and now, all that stood in his way were the ignorant fools who had deluded themselves to believing in a code of conduct—in morality. It was nothing more than an illusion. When forced to choose between the life of others and themselves, they always… _always_ chose themselves. It was the sad, undeniable truth about humans. He would break accepted standards regarding his humanity, free himself from the endless cycle of life and death.

Never again will he be underestimated or stunted by his humanity. Never again will he be weak in the face of his own future. _Never._ Again.


	2. Chapter 1: The Propaganda

**PARADOX LOST | ****CHAPTER 1: THE PROPAGANDA**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the brilliant works of J.K. Rowling. This story is only an interpretation of her writing and the characters that have inspired me to delve into their pasts. I understand that this is historically incorrect—that the happenings within this story do not occur within the series at all. I've put an original spin on the Marauders Era to make things more interesting, so please do not private message me about the authenticity of the writing. It is fanfiction; please just enjoy it for the character development and plot!

**Author's Note:** This is a work-in-progress idea that's been pestering me to be written out for months now and I finally got around to working on it. Please give me some reviews to let me know if it's any good! I'll have the next chapter up within a week or two~!

* * *

"The bloody hell is this?"

Lily Evans stared down at the pile of flyers scattered all along the floor of the train incredulously. Forty minutes. They had departed from King's Cross station only _forty_ minutes ago and there was already trouble. She felt exasperated and contemplated the idea of handing her Head Girl badge to Dumbledore with a firm, 'No thank you.' It was incredibly tempting and she entertained the idea until she felt someone come up behind her. Lily did her best not to snap at Potter. In fact, she spent most of her energy trying not to clash with the Quidditch captain. Since his very solid declaration that he was through trying to win her affections at the end of last year, Lily felt an unmistakable pang in her chest each time she looked at him. It was guilt mostly, and it was this guilt that prompted her to not make eye contact with the boy. Instead, she leaned down to pick one of the flyers off the ground and drew in a sharp breath when she saw what was on it.

_THE DARK LORD IS RISING. MUDBLOODS BEWARE._

James leaned over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of what the flyer said, but the ginger crumpled the piece of paper into a ball. "Potter, we need to clean this up and notify a professor." Her voice was steady, though her heart trembled with uneasiness. The words on the paper kept coming to mind. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those seven words (seven words that were so completely harmless on their own) bolded in black. Lily shuddered to think about the rising support for the criminal. The Dark Lord's rise to power meant that people like her stood no chance in the Wizarding world. This type of propaganda would only further alienate Muggleborns from Half-bloods and Purebloods, and it irritated her. It really did.

She drew her wand forgetting for a moment that witches and wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school, then tucked it away in trade for kneeling down to gather the papers. "Makes me sick. Who would do something like this?" she muttered under her breath. Her bout of anger pushed her guilt aside and she frowned at the boy. "Do you reckon there'll be supporters of You-Know-Who at the castle this year?" The ginger stared down at the flyers in her hand. "Maybe mum was right… maybe I shouldn't have come back." Mudblood was a term used to insult her _so_ many times before that it was hardly an insult anymore. However, it still held the same potency—the same power to offend anybody as it did her. Lily fell silent as she collected the flyers and glanced up at the fellow Gryffindor expectant of some sort of answer.

His face was screwed up in anger, and his hands were clenched into tight fists. "Some ruddy idiot, that's who. I think we should—_what the bloody hell do you mean, 'not come back?'_" The expression on James' face was almost humorous in its overwhelming shock. The idea of Lily Evans not returning to Hogwarts was as painful as the malicious intent behind the posters. "You can't mean that, Lils! First hour of being Head Boy, and I would've been lost without you. The whole train would have been in flames by the end of the second hour. It'd be a right tragedy."

Lily laughed softly, grateful for the almost comedic response she received from the boy. She chanced a glance up at James and gave him a look. "I mean exactly what you think I meant, Potter. I almost didn't come back this year. Can you really blame my mum when things like _this_ are spread round students?" She lifted one of the posters to make her point before stacking them with the others. With a heavy sigh, she frowned. "And you wouldn't have been lost without me. Haven't you always said you're capable of doing anything and everything ten folds better than anyone else? I'm sure you would have managed this so called tragedy." Lily picked up the last of the propaganda posters and shot a look at one of the Slytherins snickering in the compartment nearest to them, "We should really find a professor. Think there're more?"

"You don't even have the excuse of having wizard parents, Evans! Bloody hell, you didn't _have_ to tell them. The muggles couldn't possibly know what's going on." James rubbed his forehead as if he simply couldn't believe he dared to socialize with someone so honest. "'Course I'm the best," he continued on, walking beside her with his hands shoved in his pockets. "But you seem to be the one exception to that, Miss Evans—always have been, always will be." He plucked one of the posters from her hand, staring at it for a moment before ripping it to shreds. "Voldemort's made a right mess of things, but people flock to him like moths to a flame. There will be more. If I find who's behind these posters before a professor does, I swear to Merlin…" He trailed off darkly, beginning to look in each of the compartments for any sign of the gang.

Lily shook her head and frowned. "Potter, this… this _uprising_ isn't just exclusive to the Wizarding world. Muggles may be oblivious to the existence of a lot of things, but they're not completely dimwitted. They tend to notice when the body count shoots to the roof. My mum was weary about me leaving the _house_. You can imagine how she felt about me leaving and going to Hogwarts. I _had_ to tell her. Besides…" she paused to fold the remaining flyers in half and shoved them into her satchel. "…you know you're going to have to clean that up—I couldn't lie to mum. And don't even get me started on which one of us is best. I'm still rather annoyed that you got higher marks than I did in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The redhead fell silent, noticing that James was suddenly more preoccupied with looking into the compartments. At first, Lily figured he was just looking for the gits that threw around the flyers. After all, he seemed pretty angry about the whole situation. She sighed and tugged on James's sleeve to signal him to stop. "Don't do anything stupid, Potter. Let the professors handle it and stay out of trouble, yeah? You can go look for Sirius and the others. I can handle this. I suppose I'd be calmer about it than you'd be trying to explain. Go on…"

James shrugged, that annoyingly easy grin glued to his face. The outside world seemed far less darker in the comforting glow of the train's lighting, even with the presence of the flyers. Already, his mind was focusing on the coming year, the coming mischief, and the coming laughs. "Trouble, Lils? _Me_? I'm insulted!" He had that annoying urge to ruffle Lily's lovely hair but refrained, remembering his previous year's promise to stop chasing after her like some sad, lost puppy. "Er… I'll go do that," he said, so distracted by his thoughts of Lily he had quite missed what it was she said.

A sudden, "There you are, mate! Stop trying to snog the Head Girl, and get in here!" brought James back to the present as Sirius stuck his head out of one of the further compartments, no doubt searching for his partner in crime.

Lily shot Sirius a look, prompting him to snicker and retreat back into the train compartment. She flushed slightly, but hoped James wouldn't notice the sudden onset of color in her cheeks. The girl waved to everyone in the compartment briefly (how all six of them managed to cram themselves in there was beyond her) before chewing on her bottom lip. "Well… I'll be back." She cleared her throat and slipped past James, headed for the front of the train where the professors were seated.

Every step she took, however, seemed to trigger a word to come to mind: mudblood.

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

_Mudblood._

Marlene McKinnon recognized the troubled look in Lily's eyes; she knew it almost as well as she knew—well—almost as well as she knew Charles. She couldn't quite say that she knew herself anymore. Not since the summer after their fifth year. Her eyes trailed after the redhead, wondering if she should follow after her, but remained seated. She wasn't in any position to be helping anyone—especially if that person wasn't herself—and _especially_ if that person was Lily Evans.

"What's buggin' her?" Sirius asked, bemused expression gracing his sharp, chiseled features. "Don't tell me you two were really snogging, Prongs?"

* * *

The walk to the front of the train was short. Lily didn't run into any more people she knew, and those who knew her well enough had the sense not to bother her. There was an ever-present frown that had set in her face and the redhead clutched at her satchel. She was decidedly more upset about the flyers than she thought she had been, though she figured that she was in shock upon their discovery. Now, she felt angry and (admittedly) a bit fearful for herself and for her fellow Muggleborns, but none such emotion showed on her soft features.

She stepped round several students and dodged crowds that formed without so much of an, "Excuse me." When she arrived at the compartment, one professor (one she didn't recognize) stood to meet her at the door before she had the chance to knock.

"Yes, Miss Evans?" A charming man, tall and clean-shaven addressed her as he gestured for her to come into the compartment. They were, for the moment, alone.

Lily was stunned and a bit embarrassed she didn't know who this man was. Silently she went through the list of faculty members in her head, but yielded no clues. "Er, professor?" She started, stepping into the compartment but politely declining the offer to sit down. She didn't think she could even if she tried at that moment.

As if reading her mind, the wizard smiled and took his seat pointing at the suitcase tucked safely away in the shelf above her. "Name's Marc duSpevelle and I'll be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year." He rearranged the Daily Prophet, folding it neatly before setting it aside beside him. "Is there something you wanted in particular, Miss Evans?"

"O-Oh. Yes, by the by, it's very lovely to meet you, but I'm afraid Potter and I—that's Head Boy—ran into a bit of a situation near the end of the cars."

"A situation?"

Lily, startled out of her initial state of shyness, rummaged through her satchel to withdraw the folded flyers. "They were scattered all over the corridor. I know that it seems very silly to come to the professors with something like this, but I was certain that we should. Even if it's an ill attempt to get a reaction out of everybody…"

There was a small pause as duSpevelle reached forward and unfolded the pieces of paper. His expression became unreadable, though his jaw clenched and he seemed alarmed by the propaganda. In truth, he was rather amused. He wanted nothing more than to smirk and applaud the bout of magical spirit, but he remained impassive of any emotion. Instead, he folded the papers again and set them aside just as he had done with the Prophet. "You did the right thing coming here about it, Miss Evans, but where is Mister Potter? I would think as Head Boy he would have accompanied you—"

Before he could finish, Lily interrupted. "No, sir, I assured him I could do this on my own. He was insistent on coming along, but I declined." More apologetically, she added, "I could go and get him if you'd like to speak to him as well."

"No, that won't be necessary. How many students do you estimate saw these?"

"Er… I would say only a few, professor. Like I said, it was the back of the train and there isn't as much traffic there as there is—say—the middle of the train. Potter and I cleaned it up as soon as we realized what they were." She looked uneasily at the flyers before casting the professor a curious look. "I was wondering what we should do about it? Will you be speaking to Professor McGonagall about it when we arrive at the castle? I'm sorry—I know that that's a lot to process all at once. I tend to get chatty when I'm nervous."

"For now, please keep quiet about it. We wouldn't want the younger students to get riled up, and yes. I will be informing Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster of this incident. It shouldn't be more than a one-time thing. I'm shocked it happened at all. There's also no need for you to apologize. It's natural to want to get some answers when you're expected to know them."

That's when Lily frowned. She looked uncomfortably down at her feet before chewing her lower lip and looking at the professor again. "I'm not so shocked, sir. There're many people who agree with his ways—who agree that Muggleborns like myself should be stripped of all privileges of magic and _obliviated_. It's a wonder Hogwarts has escaped it for so long…" Feeling as if she had shared enough of her ideals, the Gryffindor girl turned her attention to the door. "Thank you for being so kind, professor. I'll be sure to relay this information to Potter and should you need either of us, all you'd have to do is send one of the students for us. We'll be in the compartment we're always in—unless, of course, we're briefing this year's prefects on their duties." Rambling again. _Damn._

There was an odd look in the man's eyes she couldn't quite place, but for now, he seemed appeased with the information she gave him. He nodded and gestured to the door. "Interesting opinions, Miss Evans. I shall contact the both of you should you be needed. Thank you again for coming to me with this."

"Thank _you_."

And with that, she turned on her heels and left hastily, walking back towards the back of the train to join her friends. She did _not_, however, have the good fortune of arriving at her destination, because a tall, lanky boy obstructed her way. Lily didn't have to look up to know who it was; she didn't have to even wonder.

"_Lily_." The tone used was almost desperate.

She, however, looked up coldly with her green eyes and spoke curtly. "Severus."

"Please, Lily, we need to talk."

Lily tried to step around him, and then tried to push him aside. Both efforts were futile. "It's been two years, Severus. What else is there to talk about?"

He stood steadfast and looked rather grim as he continued, "You know that I didn't mean it. I was angry! Sodding Potter and his stupid friends had just gotten to my head, that's _all_! Please, you've got to hear what I've got to say."

Seeing as she couldn't avoid talking to him, she let out a heavy sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "_Fine_. You've got three minutes. I've got to go over duties with Potter."

Snape scowled almost automatically. The reaction was immediate and didn't do anything to help Lily's quickly fouling mood. He blinked, however, when he realized she hadn't denied him the opportunity to redeem himself like she had for the past two years. She had either glared at him or made it very clear she didn't want to talk most of the time and the fact she agreed made him a bit hopeful. Choosing to swallow the retorts at the tip of his tongue regarding Potter, Snape cleared his throat. "R-Right. I'm sorry. I've said it a million times and I'll say it a million more if I've got to. You're my best mate, Lily. I miss you and I honestly wasn't really in my right mind then. All I saw was red, and you know very well what _they_ do to me. I—"

But before he could go on, she interrupted him. Perhaps she was just in a very interrupting mood that afternoon. "I miss you too… but that doesn't give you a right to use them as an excuse. You called me a Mudblood in front of our entire year and then some. All I tried to do was help you and it slipped out. Sev…" Lily tried again. "Severus, quite frankly, I don't know what I feel about it anymore. Mind you, I'm still angry, but I'm also very tired. I'm tired of you pestering me every chance you get and throwing apologies at me while bringing it up every time as well. I don't know if we can be best mates again, but I know for certain that I won't be able to consider it if you don't let it go."

"But…"

"Haven't you ever stopped to wonder what it felt like?" she asked, quieter this time.

"What?" Snape looked confused, brows furrowing together as if to confirm the emotion.

Lily sighed and readjusted the strap of her satchel on her shoulder. "You haven't, have you? Not once in the past two years have you stopped to wonder how it felt for me to hear my best mate call me a Mudblood. You only fixated on getting me back—getting our friendship back—when you didn't even realize how much you hurt me. I miss you. I can't deny that, but give me some time and I don't mean indefinitely. Let it go for just a few weeks and I'll seek you out."

There was a hesitation, and after considering it for a moment, Snape asked more sheepishly, "Promise?"

"I promise, Sev." She gave him a half smile, one that barely contained a hint of familiar childish mirth. Lily had just about turned to slip past him when she heard the unmistakable sound of a compartment door sliding open and a voice sounding in the sudden silence between them.

"All right there, Evans?"

James. Of _course_ he'd choose that _precise _moment to check up on her. He looked slightly worried about seeing her with her former best friend, but leaned against the doorframe to feign indifference. Severus, on the other hand, seemed positively disgusted by the sight of him.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," she muttered in James's direction. Turning back to the Slytherin, she offered a smile. "A few weeks, yeah?"

"You promised…" he reiterated seriously as if she had already forgotten. The Slytherin prefect shot James a dirty look and stormed off without another word. If looks could kill, James Potter would have died six years ago.

Lily stared after him for a second before walking up to the Gryffindor and contemplated whether or not to scold him. To be fair, he hadn't done anything wrong—just concerned. His concern for her and impressive self-control concerned _her_. She felt the guilt bubbling up inside of her again, though she knew that she had no reason to. "The new Defense professor was there and he asked that we stay quiet about the flyers." A look from the Head boy caused her to stare at him incredulously. "You didn't already tell the others about it did you?"

James winced slightly as the others in the compartment did the same. "Well, how was I supposed to know that we were going to be sworn to secrecy?"

"Bloody hell," she muttered under her breath. "I knew I shouldn't have gone alone. Well, since you've already told them, we can do damage control from in here."

"Right… about that…"

"_James Robert Potter…_"

Another wince.

* * *

(( Earlier That Day ))

"Come on, then. Out with it. Why did Ginge run off like that?" Sirius Black asked as he retook his seat beside Remus and looked up expectantly. There was surely a story behind it all; he was almost certain.

The query piqued everybody's interest. Remus glanced up from his book, Peter stopped picking at his nails, Charles and Marlene stopped chatting, and Mary even gave James an encouraging smile. They, like Sirius, knew very well that Lily wouldn't have gone to alert the professors like she did if there wasn't something worth talking about. They, like three-quarters of the other student body, were especially interested in quelling their boredom on the train ride back to school.

James was eager to oblige. The Head Boy hurried into the compartment and slid the door shut, a knowing grin on his face. Unfortunately, because the space was so crowded and he found himself without a seat, James simply sat at the center of them all—on the floor. He made himself comfortable, leaning against the wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest. His hazel eyes were alight with mischief and a hint of anger.

"Have none of you even stepped out of this place at all? There were flyers scattered all along the corridor. I'm surprised that none of you have seen it."

"Flyers? What do we care about stupid flyers?"

He rolled his eyes and scanned the room. "Well, Mary, we care about _these_ flyers because they held ominous messages on 'em about Voldemort."

The group collectively winced and the act elicited another eye-roll from the Quidditch captain. "Merlin, it's _just_ a name. Anyways. These flyers—like I said—were propaganda supporting him, I guess. Said, 'the Dark Lord is rising. Mudbloods beware'."

There was a moment of silence as the seriousness of the situation sank in. Remus shut his book and set it aside and frowned. "Do you think it's serious? How did Lily take it?" He only asked because she and Mary were the only Muggleborns in their group—and _Mary_ distanced herself from her heritage as much as possible. The blonde didn't even flinch and took no offense to his not mentioning her.

James shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "See, I'm not really sure. She seemed all right about it? I mean, not _all right_ as in she was happy about it or anythin', but she wasn't horrified or too angry about it, yeah? I think I was more irritated about it than she was—oi, Marlene. Has she mentioned that she almost didn't come back this year? Had she mentioned it to anyone here?"

"No, she hadn't mentioned anything about that. To be honest, I haven't really been around much, have I?" Marlene slid down in her seat a little bit and hugged her knees to her chest. "Mary?"

The blonde shook her head and tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear. "No, you know that things have been a bit awkward between us since—you know… I'm surprised she hasn't banished me away like she has with Snape. God, sixth year was awful."

"So was fifth." Charles added.

Peter spoke up, twirling his wand between his hands. "And fourth."

"No, fourth was alright," Sirius countered. "And I'm sure Evans is fine. She's a tough bird. Besides, I'm fairly certain that if she hasn't told any of us, she doesn't want to share. We should probably keep our nose out of it… _but_ hasn't she been gone for a while now?"

James glanced at the door and hummed. "Mm, yeah. Do you reckon I should go and check on her?"

Marlene and Remus both nodded.

With a sigh, he pushed himself onto his feet and ruffled his hair out of habit. "Right. I'll do that. What do you all think about the propaganda though? I think the war's making its way to Hogwarts, and bloody hell, I'm not going to stand around waiting for it. If I hear about another death in the Prophet, I think I might actually go crazy. The Ministry has barely done a thing and it's ridiculous." James huffed, breathing in deeply before he really lost his temper.

"It sounds like you're proposing we do something about it."

"That's _exactly_ what I'm proposing, Peter."

"Well, what do you suggest that we do?"

There was a smirk creeping its way onto James Potter's lips, though he attempted to hide it. "Build an opposition."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me, Begbie."

Sirius laughed, thrilled by the prospect of a challenge, and shoved his best mate towards the door. "I'm in, but I don't think Ginge is going to be happy about it."

"Lils will come round."

"We'll see about that, now, won't we?"

* * *

(( Presently ))

"I don't understand…"

Lily sat across from James on the floor of the compartment, frowning as he tried to explain what it was they had done.

"Well, see Lils, we sort of… spread the word about it to raise opposition against it?"

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "To do what, start a war here at Hogwarts? Potter, you do realize that—by spreading the word—you're not just gaining people who don't see eye to eye with You-Know-Who, don't you? There'll be people who agree with his cause too. You'd be splitting the school in three."

"Three?"

"Yes, Mary. Three. Pro-Dark Lord, pro-equality, and neutral. Merlin, this is _exactly _what Professor duSpevelle wanted to avoid, isn't it?"

It was Charles who spoke up then, popping a jelly slug into his mouth as he did so. He was a tall, Scottish-German boy with a prominent jawline and stunning blue eyes. For whatever reason, he had adapted his mother's strong Scottish accent, and half the time, everyone forgot that he was German at all. "Who's to say tha' the war isn't really comin' to us? It's only a matter of time and who knows what _he's_ doin' out there? No one knows where he is, and every time the Ministry seems to be gettin' a lead, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is always slippin' right through their fingers, ain't he? It's strange that Hogwarts is the only safe area for miles and miles… but that's just my opinion. We didn't really hurt anyone by raising awareness of the situation."

"But the children."

Marlene frowned, crossing her arms and sighing. "War doesn't care about children…"

And it was true. If anyone knew that fact, it was Marlene. Death Eaters had taken something precious from her during the transition between their fifth and sixth year. They had destroyed the village she and her family had lived in and killed her little brother, Alfie. The Gryffindor never stopped blaming herself for leaving him behind, and the guilt wore on her heavy conscience. War didn't spare children; no one could afford that luxury. She fell silent again and stared down at the floor, listening to the rhythmic way the train rolled across the tracks.

After a considerable amount of silence, Lily side glanced at her best friend before whispering, "So, what exactly is the plan?"

Sirius clapped James on the back with a grin, desperately trying to lighten the air around them. "See, mate? I _told_ you she'd come around."

"No, that's what _I_ said." James rolled his eyes and rubbed his shoulder to ease away the jolting pain he felt from Sirius's display of affection.

"Was it? Well, all the same…" He grinned, leaning in close to the redhead in case there was some a chance he might be overheard. "We're going to form an organization."

"_What?_" Lily's eyes widened in shock as she stared incredulously at the grey-eyed Pureblood, then looked at the others in disbelief.

"Yep," Mary confirmed.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not at all.

"We still haven't thought of a name, but we were throwing around some ideas. I reckon we can sort that out later once we figure out who we can trust," James started, cautiously. He knew that Lily didn't much like surprises, let alone surprises that probably got her into trouble.

"You're mad the lot of you," she muttered as she shook her head.

Remus shrugged, returning to his book. "Doesn't mean we're not doing the right thing, Lily. You must know that."

"… Yeah, but… let's refrain from acting without discussing it among each other first, yeah? This has got to be a total egalitarian system. Not one person can be in charge and we should probably figure out a way to make this actually work—not to mention we should have a way to identify each other—s"

"Wow, Evans. I thought you said we were mad, but it seems like you've put a lot of thought into this whole business already." James smirked, shrugging off his coat to make himself more comfortable.

Lily tucked her fiery red hair behind her ears and shrugged. "Not really…"

"Sure… and I'm Godric Gryffindor."

"You bloody wish, Potter."

Sirius rolled his eyes and threw Remus's book in James's direction. "Stop it, the both of you. I think I'm going to be sick."

The Quidditch captain caught the book just before it crashed into his glasses and Remus elbowed Sirius in the side. Peter laughed and Marlene rolled her eyes. "You're welcome to excuse yourself any time, Padfoot."

"Shove off, Prongs."

"Gladly."


End file.
